


I'll Inspire You to Make the Sun if You Don't Ask Why

by victoriousscarf



Series: Beware of Heroes [10]
Category: Dune - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:15:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2569475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victoriousscarf/pseuds/victoriousscarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think repetition would teach you not to keep making mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Inspire You to Make the Sun if You Don't Ask Why

**Author's Note:**

> I should know better: To run, not walk, away from the Celebrimbor feels

Like so many mistakes in his life, Celebrimbor should have known better.

He should have known better than to join the resistance so young. He should have waited, spent more years hiding with the other children, but a fire had burned in his chest and he had refused to stay behind one more time when his father and uncles went to war. He refused to spent another week sitting at his father’s abandoned work bench, kicking the legs of the chair that was still too high for him.

So he went to war, still too small to do much good. The first engagement, he had been sick for hours, curled up at the metal floor of the freighter, arms clenched around his stomach and images of death and burning metal in his mind.

For the rest of his life he had nightmares about that day.

He should have known better than to accept Maedhros’ offer of the golden eyes to make a gift for Fingon.

In fact he should have known better than to give in to the desire to create in the first place. Metal flowed in his hands, coming out the other side as graceful objects, jagged edges smoothed out and turned into something else. He made practical things, weapons, and beautiful things, like the beads in Fingon’s hair, and a crown for Galadriel to wear at her wedding. His young heart had yearned for her then, and he poured all that passion and adoration into the smooth steel, beautiful flowers budding out of the elongated lines. He had watched, heart in his throat when she was wed in it, Celeborn’s smile almost blinding.

He should have known better than to turn a blind eye on his father and his father’s rage filled soul.

He should have known better than to return Narvi’s warm smile the first day they met. Maybe it would have hurt less later if their relationship had been coolly cordial.

But more than anything, he should have known better about this.

Should have known better than to accept this strange man into his life, into his workshop. Should not have listened to his silky smooth voice, urging Celebrimbor on with ideas and visions of what he could create. Shouldn’t have let him touch his arm like the touch was welcomed, and Celebrimbor shouldn’t have shivered at the heat of his hand.

He had watched Fingon and Maedhros fall, he should have known where his own desires would lead.

He shouldn’t have agreed to create the things the other suggested, throwing himself into the work to distract himself from the ruins of the universe around him, from the rubble that had taken the lives of so many he had known. He stood but sometimes it felt like he was in a valley of corpses. The winners were few enough he wondered if the war had been worth it.

He shouldn’t have let the man distract him from his own pain, because if he had held on to it, maybe he wouldn’t have thrown himself into the work and succeeded so well.

But that voice crooned in his ear, and he stopped thinking about what he was making anymore, focused on the passion of creation and the warmth at his side.


End file.
